Behind Enemy Lines I: Light Hammer
by Halfhand
Summary: They were the Children of the Light’s secret weapon against the invading Seanchan, the last reserve held tightly in the Lord Captain Commander’s palms. And then the Fortress of Light fell.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

Of all the symbols of the Lord Captain Commander's station, the desk was one of the more potent. For all the Children of Light and petitioners that had stood before it, the dark wood appeared to exude a deep aura of mystery and power. Within its cavities slept innocuous papers and parchments. But each paper could be a death warrant, a pardon, an order or stay of execution, and sometimes much more. Of all the greatest secrets of the Order could be found hidden somewhere within its dark access. In the domain of the Lord Captain Commander, what rested inside the desk held an inexorable influence over the civilized world.

There was a black steel lock on one of the top drawer of that desk, one of the Master Smith's best works. One such secret of the office was contained here. A weapon hidden and biding for the right time. For the right targets.

It was the right time. Pedron Niall, the current Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light unlocked the drawer with a silver key, one of many that glittered from its chain, twisting the well-crafted lock open, and pulling the drawer out smoothly. Within its calm recesses sat a small stack of correspondence, each highlighted with deciding members of the project. He pulled out the papers with his battle-worn hands, his shrewd, careful eyes skimming across the papers. They were stacked by chronological order.

He glanced across the most important pieces.

The first was written in bold, black ink on a Fortress stationary, folded once and creased, but no other mark except for the red Shepard hook of the Hand of the Light. It read:

_To the Lord Captain Commander Pedron Niall,_

_As commanded by the joint commission, the Hands of Light have agreed to participate on the Lighthammer Project with full allowance of our facilities in Mardecin and Bellon. They await the arrivals of the subjects and further instructions._

_Patiently always,_

_Rhadam Asunawa, High Inquisitor_

The next paper of interest was a wrinkled somewhat water-logged paper marked with thin inked scrawl:

_To the Lord Captain Commander Pedron Niall,_

_Recruitment has been fully anticipated. The subjects are en route to the Bellon compound for indoctrination and training. Progress in Mardecin is behind schedule. Please advise._

_Field Captain Dishom Sandelay, LH Project_

The next one had given Niall pause when he had first read it.

_To the Lord Captain Commander Pedron Niall,_

_Three of the twenty Lighthammer subjects have fallen in the training. Their bodies will be sent to Amador in one week. Ten other Lighthammer subjects are unable to continue. Only seven remain in physical and mental capacity. Please advise._

_Senior Healer Donisa Gori, LH Project_

Pedron Niall rubbed at the arch of his nose, and placed the letters down. He had read them all each few times over. From the top of his desk, he drew the most recent one, and added it to the pile. It read:

_To the Lord Captain Commander Pedron Niall,_

_Sabres are fully operational. Test target on Abila Dragonsworn commences. Code name Bandar Eban will report in person._

_Lord Captain Ariko Sevron, LH Command_

Pedron Nial tapped the paper gently. There was a knock on the mahogany gild-inlaid door. Patiently, he placed the correspondences back into order, carefully replaced the drawer and relocked it. He was the Lord Captain Commander after all. His time was valuable. His eyes watched the door carefully, and then a small smile crept on his paper-thin face. A smile of anticipation. Here would be the fruition of a project that he had begun decades ago when he was first anointed.

"Come in." He leaned forward.

The door creaked open, and a dry stick of a man shuffled in, the secretary's eyes peering into the room, "Sir. He has come."

"Show him in, Sebban." The Lord Captain Commander replied.

The pinch-faced man stepped aside and entered in a man, armored from head to toe. Pedron's eyes lighted on the polished white steel that gleamed from the man's armor.

The only sign of humanity anywhere within that cold shell was a dark slit upon the sleek trademark helm. No eyes could be seen, but just staring into those dark shadows, Pedron Nial knew he was matching vision with leashed darkness.

The scabbard that hang on the man's belt weighed empty, as all those that entered the Lord Captain Commander's chambers. But embedded on the man's left gauntlet was wielded an incredibly sharp blade that could not be removed. The Hand of Mercy as Lighthammer command dubbed it.

The man bore a simple cloak of the Children of the Light over his shoulder. The only sign of designation and rank was the padded right shoulder plate that bore a single vertical line of gold.

Pedron Niall was a veteran of thousands of campaigns, but looking at this product, he felt a tingle in his spine. Gazing up at the monolith of steel, it was like touching eyes upon an angel of death, here standing within the ray of sunlight on the coin gold tiled sunburst of his chamber. And he made it. Breathed life into it.

They were called Sabres. Pedron was amused by the name—it was his idea. He was a fond study of history, and the story of the original Lighthammer, Child Cort Sabre was intimate in his knowledge. Here, again stood a Hammer of Light, another Sabre to smite evil wherever it treads, even in the abyss of shadows.

The door opened once more, and the perpetually furious visage of Eamon Valda burst in. His eyes glint upon the armored soldier, "Ah, so they are here."

Pedron Niall regretted including Eamon Valda in the project, for the Lord Captain tried to squeeze into every facet of the project. Nothing could be changed now, so Pedron gestured towards the inquiring secretary, who nodded and closed the door.

"Yes, Lord Captain. He was about to report on his success at Abila, yes?" Pedron Niall said indulgingly.

"The Sabres have fulfilled all mission parameters at Abila." A cold voice echoed through the vault of the helm. "All targets have been neutralized at zero loss of my men."

_Impressive_. Pedron Niall thought. There were close to two hundred Dragonsworn gathering at Abila, extremely well-armed from storming the arms depot, and lead by an ex-Amadician Guardian of the Gate, a traitor to the country but well-skilled in tactics and arms. He wondered how they did it. Was it by sword, by fire, by poison? Did it matter?

"Their leader?" Pedron Niall asked.

"We have taken him alive and captive." The voice replied in its metallic air. "He is now in the custody of the Hands of Light."

"And your men?"

"We have arranged ourselves in the assigned barracks within the Fortress."

"You see, Pedron, they're ready. I want them transferred to my command." Eamon Valda exclaimed.

Pedron glanced at the Lord Captain warily. Lord Eamon was a fair commander, but angry and ambitious. He was not going to let Valda even touch these men. "In due time, Lord Captain."

Turning his attention back to the soldier, "You have done well. Stay in the barracks until you receive your assignment."

The armored man gave a salute. He walked towards the door, past Eamon Valda, and for a brief moment, each eyed the other. Valda was a Blademaster, but even he hesitated a little at the imposing dominance of the soldier. Then, the Sabre was out of the door, his cloak sweeping behind him.

"You are getting soft in your time, Pedron." Valda lowered his voice. "You waste them."

"Perhaps. But, I am the Lord Captain Commander. You are dismissed."

"For now. As the Lord Captain Commander commands." The Lord Captain gave a slow salute, and departed.

Pedron Niall studied the close door. Valda was right in one thing. The Sabres were ready. It was a simple matter of when.


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

_I had a name once. It was a fair name, I think. It rolled off the tongue very well. But, I don't have a name anymore. It was stricken from the Fortress rolls and stricken from the Hall of Eternity. Because I'm a Sabre, and this is our story._

_To other Sabres I was Fish. In battle and operations I was coded Fal Moran. We were created by Operation Lighthammer over ten years ago. The commanders recognized the need for us, a special group to infiltrate and destroy our enemies unconventionally. Our story was never told before this. It could not be, but now it can._

It was a rest night—an evening with no mission. I studied the ceiling as I lay on the hard bunk, feeling my muscles relax. It was not one of the well-kept barrack rooms, with the ceiling cracking and peeling a bit. They had placed us in one of the deepest sectors of the Fortress. Out of sight, I guess. We would wait quietly in our little hole, until they would unleash us on the next target. At least Pedron Niall had some tact, before he was murdered under unusual circumstances. For the newly ascended Lord Captain Commander Eamon Valda, we were just attack dogs. Efficient attack dogs. I gave an internal sneer that did not show on my face. But, I could not disobey him.

I leaned up on my bunk as I took a lay of the barrack room. Six Sabres were housed here, in various states and activities. We knew each other's backgrounds. At least what we cared to divulge. Some of us chose to not divulge much. But, we knew each other's weaknesses and strengths. We needed to trust each other. We needed to be able to use each other.

I was the close quarter specialist, ranked in the elite Arrow class. Some people wondered if I was like a Blademaster. Oh, I was better, I would tell them, since I didn't have half the honor or scruples that a Blademaster carries. I'd rather stab a person in the throat than honorably wait for him to go for his sword. I was one of the few volunteers of the Lighthammer program. I was once a Hundredman in the Legions, not too bad of a position. A bit of reputation and an adequate living commission. Now, I was officially no higher than an initiate, and I loved every moment of it. Well, love was a strong word. I didn't really feel emotions anymore—Sabres had no use for such human sensations. It would be more accurate to say that I was satisfied with my vocation. But my time as an officer gave me some initiative as a Sabre. None of us were mindless drones—oh no, that would hurt our productivity. But, not even I can disobey a high command.

Next to me, Map was quiet in her mediation, sitting cross-legged on her bed. She was the strategic mind of the team and one of the only females. She was a volunteer to the program as well, fresh from academia, seeking something a bit more _interesting_. She was also quite skilled in close quarters. Surprisingly for her smaller frame, she could take anyone lower than an Arrow class in a straight fight. But, her mind was her asset to the team—to formulate a battle plan almost instantly, to recognize priorities, and to calculate the best paths. Without a doubt, she was the brains of the Sabre. Code name Maradon.

Beyond her, Boss was reading a small leather-bound book. I think it was the Essays of Willim of Maneches. He didn't appear the sort of man fond of books, but he could quote passages of it like it was the Oaths. He was the official leader of the Sabres, well-rounded. With a quick mind, a killer instinct, and apathetic attitude, he was perfect for the position. He had a voice of command, a pale, grim voice that reminded one of Death. And his cold, gray stare… He never looked in your eyes; he looked through you, as if he could pierce right into your very soul. He was code named Bandar Eban.

There was Kay doing his daily physical regimen against the cold stone floor. His lankiness and seeming clumsiness masked a very real strength and grace. But, his eyes and finger were apparently his gift. With a Sabre-issued crossbow, he could hit a bulls-eye from nearly ten thousand paces in hurricane winds. And blind-folded, with both arms cut off, with a bow made of a strand of cheese. Or at least he liked to boast. Code name Jehennah.

Stim was sound asleep in bed, as he always was in downtime. He kept himself—and incidentally the team--in healthy shape. I think he used to be an animal surgeon or a hedge doctor or some such, but he was just as good with men as with his previous patients, whoever they may be. With the knowledge of healing, he also brought aboard a very keen repertoire of poisons and other deadly brews. What the good doctor gives with one hands, he takes with the other. He was also quite fine of a cook, though naturally we were leery of his habit of keeping his spices alongside his poisons. Code name Shol Arbela.

Con was the last Sabre in the room, the biggest man—although none of us were particularly large-- and ironically the stealthiest of the bunch. Code named Caemlyn, he had a gentle grace about him, as if he was born of shadow and ether. He was our reconnaissance and he was certainly the second best shot after Kay. I would trust him with my back and my lead. Just as I would trust every single Sabre in the room, except for Stim's cooking. It was the way and life of the Sabre: utter trust. But that was also our weakness—it takes one traitor to kill us all. But the thought of a treacherous Sabre was unthinkable—nay, impossible.

The room was quiet except for the occasional rustling of Boss turning his pages, and the silent swishing of Kay's push-ups against the ground. None of us were big talkers, and we had just finished a mission. I liked the quiet; it was soothing, and a stark contrast to the chaos and bloodshed of the average mission. Unfortunately, I could not enjoy it for long.

There was a shout outside the door, muffled slightly. Then a crash and the instantly recognizable keen of swords. I rolled to my feet, as did everyone in the room, even the just-comatose form of Stim was at attention, eyes instantly alert.

There was a faint hum and _crack_, which my practiced ear recognized as the sound of a discharging bow. More shouts, and some scream filtered into the room.

All eyes turned to Boss. His fingers flashed. _Arm yourselves_. _Take the hall. Caemlyn forward. _

Unfortunately, all of our armor and weapons were kept under lock and key in the armory. Apparently, they didn't want us to roam the halls in the Sabre armor. The only article I had with me was the blade gauntlet that I had brought in to fix. But, it would have to serve me faithfully until I could be re-armed. We were all wearing various state of under-dress, but we would have to make the best of it. Maybe it was just nothing. Maybe.

We flowed towards the door, each in position. Boss gave the signal, and Con kicked open the door. Immediately, a crossbolt took him through the throat. But we were through the door, rushing close the men in the halls, Con collapsing behind us.

There were five of them in that narrow hall, the bodies of Children of Light around them in various state of dress. The first soldier had his just discharged crossbow, while the rest bore curved swords. Each was dressed in green and red scaled armor with plumed insectoid helmet. They looked like Bugs. Against us—half naked and just about unarmed--they had all the obvious advantage.

I was first, my gauntlet's blade tearing through the bowman's throat before he could react from his first shot, as I dragged him down. Map and Boss leaped beside me, smashing into two swordmen, preventing them from bringing their scimitars to use. The last invader slashed down at Boss, but I grabbed his wrist and guided it to the wall. My ensuing punch was led by the Blade of Mercy, nailing him to the wall. I pulled back, and he slid down the marble surface, leaving a wet red trail.

Within just five quick second, the five soldiers were dead. I've never seen soldiers armored like this in the Westlands. But these Bug-soldiers knew what they were doing. They had taken two rooms of barracks by surprise, and this deep into the Fortress, they had probably taken more. And they were obviously not alone. We had managed these soldiers, who were distracted and unprepared for us, but it would not be easy from here. I glanced behind, as blood-spotted Stim was trying to keep Con's from his death bed, perhaps futilely.

I drew the curved sword from the soldier I just killed, and felt its weight in my hand. It was oddly balanced, but it would suit me for now. Boss and Map both sported their own acquired blades, and Kay drew the crossbow from the first downed soldier along with the quiver of bolts.

"Armory." Boss commanded softly. We flowed down the hall, with Boss at the lead. Behind us, Stim lifted Con around his shoulder and followed. We crossed a corner, to see a much larger group of invaders here, at ten well-armed, standing over the bodies of fallen Children. They were confident, but we were better. In the narrow corridors, they could not bring their larger number to bear. Kay's crossbow took one through the opening in the helmet and the rest of us carved a bloody path through them.

As the corridor broke into the atrium of the stairs, Boss halted immediately and pulled us back. Arrows drilled into the wall opposite of us. Boss waved to both sides, and the group ducked into open doors of the hall, leaving me and Boss alone. Soldiers rushed the hall, charging down towards us. We backed away as we fought. Boss disarmed the first—literally—and kicked the body into the rest. Then the Sabres jumped from the rooms from the side and behind the Bugs. I reversed direction, and plowed into the milling Seanchan. My blade chewing liberally through their throats as my sword warded away blows.

Kay took the distraction to roll out into the atrium, two crossbows in hands, firing with a double-crack to take out both their archers. We finished off the rest mercilessly, and Kay looted another quiver of crossbolts from a dead archer.

"The Fortress is over-run. Their reinforcements likely from below us. Head up to the High Armory." Map says. Boss nodded, and we ascended the stairs, in single order. Kay locked and fired twice, and twice soldiers fell through the middle of the spiral staircase.

Then sudden movement in our peripheral. We all reacted as one, diving to the floor. Searing fire blazed overhead, spilling liquid flames across the side of the wall, leaving charred debris scattering in a shower that stung my shielding arm.

A second fireball descended on the stair landing we were on, but we were no longer there. We had ducked into the nearest hallway, as the fireball charred through marble leaving a black scorched pit and a ring of fire.

We weren't properly equipped to deal with a channeler, without losing a significant portion of our meager forces. Heavy footsteps begin to ascend from below and descend the stairs from above. Arrows skipped off the marble floor, and another fireball spilled across the corner of the hallway. There was no more sound of resistance from the Children. The Fortress was lost.

Boss motioned us down the hallway. Kay followed in the back, his crossbow aimed steady. _Form up_, Boss gestured, as we approached a doorway at the end of the corridor. Kay began to fire at pursuers behind, his crossbow strumming their melodic song.

I took point, kicking open the door, prepared to take a hit. But the room was empty, and we streamed in. Kay fired back once more, striking a soldier in the chest through this armor, and slammed the door shut. We were in an unused office, and I pushed a desk to the door to barricade it.

"How is he?" Boss asked Stim, who set blood-soaked Con down on the floor for the moment. Stim had tightly wrapped torn cloth around Con's neck, but the fabric was already completely stained red.

"Alive. Barely."

Boss nodded, "We're going out the window. If separated, meet up at the Tallan safehouse."

Map scanned out the window. "They're opening the main gate. Occupying soldiers coming in. We'll need to go over rooftop."

The door shivered inward as the invaders begin to slam against it. I tipped a bookcase over the door besides the desk. Boss motioned to move. Kay was out first, tossing out his crossbow, and jumping after it out onto the small ledge outside. We exited single-file, as Kay lead the way through the dark night, jumping from ledge to ledge. I was the last to exit. As I stepped out the window, the door behind us exploded in a shower of splinters and flame.

I caught my hand against the windowside to prevent from being pushed forward by the blast, and used my momentum to swing out of sight behind the wall. I jumped down quickly after the squad. The stone was slippery from an earlier downpour, but I found sure footing in the darkness.

A face peered out the window, but a backward shot from Kay sent him stumbling back. With a final jump, we leaped from the main Fortress onto the roof of the Stables. Arrow stitched through the night, thumping on stone and rafters.

There were footsteps of armored soldiers below us, seizing control of the Fortress grounds, but we traveled over-head, from the stables on to the corridor walls, and finally leaping towards the rooftop of an adjacent residence. Looking back briefly, I saw large reptilian shapes taking flight from the Fortress top, into the night sky, obscuring stars and briefly passing over the moon. The Fortress and its garrison were lost. Torchlights flashed through the city, carried by infantry and cavalry and large suspicious lumbering creatures. Amador was lost too.

But it would take much more to pry out the Sabres. Oh, much, much more. I give a small look back at the Fortress as we jogged through the midnight fog towards our safe house.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

"Hold him steady!" Stim growled, as he leaned heavily over the throat of Con. His surgeon's hand moved quickly, sharp makeshift tweezers in one, the other bare to the world. I clamped hard around the wounded man's head, around his ears. Con was reaching lucidity, but before his consciousness, he was beginning to resist Stim's probing into his wound.

Stim twitched his hand, casting it quickly over the open lamp to disinfect. There was a hiss of blood evaporating, and a quick glow. He dipped the tool in a cup of brandy and jabbed the sharp implement back into Con's neck. Boss was holding down his shoulders, stoically taking crazed kicks to his stomach.

Con's throat was a mess, dried blood formed like petals of a flower around the arrow's entry point. Stim moved his instrument deeper, and with a deft twist, he plucked out a darkly soaked arrowhead.

"Give me the needle." He said as he pressed the wound closed to stem the newly flowing blood. A flash of steel glowed red in the fire, and another dip in the brandy. Almost faster than the eye could see, Stim had threaded it, and begin to lace across Con's ruined throat. With a snap, he broke the thread. More alcohol doused the skin. Bandages glowed red in the fire, and he twisted the torn cloth around the neck. Almost immediately it soaked scarlet, but it held.

"He'll live." Stim stood up, wiping his bloody hands on a rag. Red drops speckled his face and his clothes, and red glowed in his eyes. "The arrow missed his main channels. I'll try to get some water in him later." He tossed the blood-soaked rag aide, arched his eyebrow, and asked, "Lunch?"

I stood up, wiping my own hands as well, and peeked out the safe-house's window to see another one of the Bug patrol passed by on the road. Six armored men, and one riding what I can only call a giant lizard. The people of Amador gave them a wide berth, as the soldiers marched down the road. There were large numbers of these patrols through the city, keeping at bay the last of the resistance by the defenders. By now, the occupiers have the capital of Amadicia under a tight heel.

I leaned back, scratching absent-mindedly at my bandaged shoulder, where one of the soldiers had cut me in our escape from the Fortress. It wasn't a deep cut, but Stim did not desire for it to get infected while we were on low supplies in the safe house.

"How long do you think we've got before they find us here." Kay asked.

"One week maximum. Could be any time now." Map replied, polishing her new sword. There was a small weapons cabinet in the safehouse, containing nothing of high quality. But a few iron swords were better than nothing. And we were far more familiar with them than the Bugs' curved scimitars. "It's a matter of time before they raid the archives, and find the location of all the safe houses."

"We need to take it out." Boss stroked his stubbled chin. "A quick foray into the Fortress to burn the archives. Imagine what they could do with all the maps and information the Order has in there."

"You've seen the Fortress now." I took a bite of the hardtack on the table. There was a bit of larder stocked in the cabinet, enough to sustain us for a while at least. "More garrisoned than it was on one of our good day."

"This is what we were made for, Blue." Boss replied, his eyes studying me. "If we die to burn the archives, then it is lives well spent."

Before anyone could say anything, the front knob made a scratching sound. Boss pointed at Kay and me. Immediately, we were up, flanking the door on both sides.

The previously locked door opened. Iron and steel flashed through the air, and I found a sword tip at my throat, and my own poised on the Bug at the door. One twist of my wrist, and the stranger would be choking on blood. But, the same would be with me. There were soft footsteps as the armed Sabres approached. If we had been found, we would have to fight our way out. But, there was only this one Bug. There was no one else beside him.

"Let me in before a patrol sees us." The Bug broke the silence. The voice. I stared under the visor, and quickly nodded.

We moved in to the room, as Kay closed and locked it behind. Five swords were raised instantly towards her.

"Relax. It's me." The stranger lowered the sword and removed the bug helmet, to let loose a thick swathe of black hair. She dropped her sword on the table, along with a slender dagger that she used to pick the lock. The weapons eased around her.

"Lore." Kay visibly relaxed, but only slightly. "You could have knocked."

"I could have. I could have." Lore said, as she pulled up a chair, sitting down with her chin on the back. Code named Lugard, the seventh Sabre was a fairly attractive woman, with a clear countenance and a magnetic charisma. "I'm glad to see you all made it hale from the Fortress." Her eyes touched on the unconscious form of Con. "Well, mostly hale."

"How was your mission, Lore?" Kay sat down at his own seat.

"If they had sent me out but a week early, I'd think we would have been prepared for the invasion." Lore replied, pouring herself some milk. She was the only Sabre that was out on a mission when the Fortress fell. She was our intelligence and infiltration expert. She could speak every Common dialect from Illian to Borderlander, with a touch of the Old Tongue and some Sea Folk. She was also the most dangerous member of the team. She joined the team under very special circumstances—very special.

"They sent you west, yes? What do you know about these people?"

"They're called Seanchan. From across the Aryth Ocean, back to take back the land that they claimed." She sipped from her cup. "They have leashed channelers as weapons and various flavors of beasts that you may have already seen. And we must get out of the city now. They're breaking into houses looking for insurgents."

"We know. We've seen them."

"This is the last safe house left in greater Amador." She placed the cup down. "They have the archives locked down before I could destroy it. You have to leave now."

"How much time?" Boss barked.

"Less than an hour. When I found out, I came immediately here. They're preparing a special group after you. Seems you made an impression on them in your escape. But, I have set a plan in motion." Lore outlined her arrangement.

"Perfect. Let's go." We stood as one. Map had prepared an evacuation plan as soon as we had arrived, and we knew it by heart. I grabbed a dark gray cloak from the hook on the wall. It was an old one with a hood, cut in the Amador fashion. With the turning weather in the late months, perhaps half the population would be cloaked as so. I flipped the cloak over my belted sword. Around the table we were all dressed such to blend in to the crowd, with the exception of the Seanchan-disguised Lore.

"Operation order." Boss opened the door, and Kay and I stepped out into the crowd. We casually studied the busy street and walked on as the door closed behind us. We would depart by small groups to draw as little attention as possible. Even in occupied Amador, the people went about their business. I could see a few streams of smoke flowing into the sky from the Fortress grounds.

We walked towards the Fortress at a steady, unhurried pace until we stopped perhaps one block away from the main gates. Some enterprising individuals had set up some shops on the side of the street here. Normally, the Children kept the streets here cleared, but the new masters did not seem to feel the same necessity.

From the open Fortress gate issued a sufficiently large group of Seanchan to attract my attention. Several well-armed Seanchan riding atop cat-lizards, along with one brightly plumed officer. Behind them rode a pair of woman, one dressed in blue, and the other in plain gray. One of the woman was connected to the other by a silvery leash. Channelers, most likely. Either one or both. They marched down the street from where we came, and I had the feeling that they were the group dispatched to break into the safe house.

Kay and I browsed over the wares lined up on the street, as I pretended to dicker over the price of some browning cabbages with a peddler. We kept our eyes scanning the street carefully. Two dozen Seanchan stood guard in front of the gate, along with two giant frog-creatures with sharp beaks, along with another one of the women-pairs. But, our attention was on the Stables directly next to the Fortress. The Seanchan had grabbed all the horseflesh available in town, and stocked them inside. If we were going to make it away from Amador with some mobility, we are going to have to go through there.

There were a dozen Seanchan guards in front of the stables as well. My eyes sweeped the street. No one appeared to be watching us, and we had gone much unnoticed.

"Five coppers." The cabbage seller said. "No less."

"Five coppers for two heads of cabbage?" Someone asked incredulously beside me. Without looking, I knew it were the cloaked figures of Boss and Map.

"No thanks." I excused myself, as I waved my hands. _Coast is clear. No suspicions_.

I turned from the wares, to catch sight of a Seanchan—or someone dressed as a Seanchan—walking in front of a man pushing a covered wagon. A wagon probably containing an injured Sabre.

"You there." A slurring voice issued from the Seanchan, gauntlet fingers pointing at the four Sabres standing by the cabbage patch. "Yes, you four. You look fairly healthy. Come with me. I need to use your hands."

"But I have business today." I protested, playing along.

"I will hear no excuses from an Oathbreaker." She gave a jerk with her thumb, and her other hand touched the scimitar on her belt, brooding no debate.

We quickly followed her, along with Stim and his wagon. She walked crisply up to the stables, and gave a short salute to the guard.

"Glory to the Hailene." She said. She reached insider her cloak, and handed them a folded paper. The guard-at-charge took it and read it.

"Captain Waru. We have prepared the horses as you requested. Everything appears to be in order." He returned the letter.

"Very good." She said, as she pushed open the stable door, and motioned impatiently for us to follow.

The stables within were completely packed with horses. Seven horses, equipped with heavy, laden saddlebags awaited us.

"Here is your task. Take the reigns of the pack horses and follow me. It will only be a half day's journey. Once, you have finished, you may return to your businesses." She remarked contemptuously, and then motioned at the crossbow on her back, "But, do not dare any foolish acts."

She mounted a well-trained Amador white stallion, and led us out of the stables. I kept my head lowered as I passed the guard, and we continued without incident. To an outsider, we appeared simply to be a group of workmen leading several pack animals. Occasionally, a pack of occupiers would look over at us, but seeing Lore at the head, paid us no mind, except an occasional nod to the disguised Sabre.

At the gates, there were another Seanchan patrol, but after Lore showed the guardsman her paper, they waved us through. The road was filled with merchants, but kept orderly by the occasional Seanchan guards, forcing them to their correct traffic lanes. We quickly put distance between us and the besieged city, the last gray walls of Amador soon disappearing over the hills. We dumped half the cargo at the side of the road, and mounted up. We were now very much alone.


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

The fire burned crisply in the clearing, as we sat around, eating the supplies that the Seanchan had apparently provided for us. Kay was hidden somewhere in the trees, keeping watch for the night. It was perhaps an hour's walk from the nearest road, so we should be relatively beyond peeping eyes.

"Tell me, Lore. How did you get us out of Amador?" I asked. "With so little attention."

"Legitimacy goes along way, Fish. I've been busy. For all intensive purposes, I am a Seanchan captain." Her voice melted into the Seanchan slur. "Let's just say that in the last couple of months, I was Captain Waru of the Seanchan Hailene. It was a simple matter for me to requisite some supplies and horses for my scouting exposition."

Boss chewed on his hard rations for a moment. "Map. Give us a run-down of our situation."

"We have to hit the armory at Mardecin." Map explained. "We will be able to equip ourselves there, and ready ourselves for a war against the Seanchan. Without proper accoutrement, we will not be effective."

"They'll be hard to uproot." Lore said. "They have enormous logistics supporting them. Especially now with Amador and its significant resources under their thumbs."

"May be it so. But we will have to slow their advances and hurt them until we can find Valda's forces. Eventually, the Children should rally from around the world, and we can retake Amador. The Mardecin compound must be our first goal. Hopefully, they have avoided the sight of the Seanchan. What's the intelligence on the Seanchan movement?"

"They've concentrated most of their forces here in Amador to take it, with many forces working in Amadicia itself. But, they'll be ready to move out their armies northward to take the rest of the country soon."

"Very good. We will move northwards towards Mardecin in the morning." Boss stared at the fire. "The name of the game is attrition."

Beside the fire, a stilled figure stirred, rustling against the dry grass. Stim quickly moved close, helping Con to a sitting place. The Sabre slowly touched at the thick bandages around his neck, and wheezed through his torn throat, "I'm ready."

In the soft glow of his eyes, I could detect trepidation—emotions. Beads of perspiration drew from his forehead, and his eyes flittered back and forth in a sweep.

"Master yourself, Caemlyn." Boss commanded, without gazing from the fire.

Then Con closed his eyes, biting down on his lips until they bled. A frown of deep pain crossed through his brows, one hand rising as if to immerse itself in the fire before him. Then he opened the eyes, and he was once more in the protective embrace of the Oneness.

I recognized the catharsis that Con had just quashed. It was a side-effect of the Oneness that each Sabre accepted for our duty. The Oneness was an emotionless void of concentration that allowed us to be alert and ready, at all times. Some called it the Flame and the Void. For many people, it was seldom used for longer than a single battle. But, for a Sabre, we reveled in it every breath of our lives. It was our curse and our blessing. Even in our sleep, our mind could be set at readiness for battle. But it was taxing and draining for the untrained and the weak-minded. And when one was so grievously injured as Con, the body's own requirement for healing shattered the Oneness. In that brief moment after waking from a deep healing rest, a Sabre can almost be overwhelmed by a flood of repressed emotions that may have spanned years. Never had a Sabre been driven insane by the catharsis, but that was one of the Order's largest fears. I had never been injured enough to break from the Oneness, to feel the soft fallible core of humanity even briefly like Con did, to feel the wash of unbridled emotions.

But Con had mastered the catharsis, and once more sat in the armor of the void and flame.

"Will you be able to fight?" I asked.

"To the best of my abilities." He matched my cold, mastered eyes.


	5. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

We rode across the sleeting dawn, our cloaks pulled over our head. The road was fairly abandoned. The war may have begun choking trade and travelers.

I shielded my torch in the hand from the rain and tossed it to the center of the bridge we had just crossed. More torches followed its brother, eventually overcoming the rain and wet wood, until the entire bridge was burning merrily, mixed steam and smoke rising into the gray sky. It finally collapsed, sections of it crumbling and falling into the fast-flowing river. Many of these bridges had we burned in our journey. Amadician law prohibited stone bridges, so we had left every bridge in ashes behind us. Perhaps it is enough to slow down the Seanchan.

"Mardecin is just over the hill." Kay rode up to us, his cloak twisting in the wind. "It looked unoccupied. The Sunburst still flies over the compound."

"Perhaps we have beaten the Seanchan here." I suggested.

"Perhaps." Boss replied. "We'll go in, but be prepared for anything."

We rode down the muddy road until the sight of Mardecin peeked over the hill. It was a fairly large and active town by the river. A wooden fortress stood in the center of town, banners waving fitfully in the rain. Down into the town we rode, through the cobblestone road. The rain kept most of the villagers in, but those who were out paid little attention to us.

Before the fortress in Mardecin, Boss removed the hood from his head, cantering up towards the closed gate. There were no guards outside, but he shouted up towards the tower and hammered at the entrance with his fist, "Open the gates!"

There was no reply for a few seconds, before a voice coursed through the rain. "Who is it?"

"Bandar Eban." He replied. There was a pause of a few moments with no reply. Boss hammered against the gate again, and it opened after a pause, with the familiar sight of Captain Sandelay looked out.

"Why are you here?" The Field Captain asked. "We lost communications with Amador for some days."

"Amador has fallen to an army called the Seanchan." We rode through the gates into the courtyard. "You must prepare for siege. We need to use the armory."

"Of course. Of course." He waved towards the area near the back. "Go ahead. Shall I send someone for your horses and prepare your rooms?"

"We will take care of them, Captain. We will need to leave soon." Boss gave a cursory nod down to the captain, and we rode off towards the exterior armory building.

"He's different." I immediately remarked.

"It's a trap. The Seanchan are here." Map simply said. "The fort shows recent sign of battle, almost perfectly covered up. Fresh sawdust on the ground to cover up the blood spots, and the iron gate does not match its hinges."

"Shall I kill him?" Kay asked, opening his cloak slightly to reveal the crossbow held ready in his hand.

"No, there are eyes on our backs. Enter the armory."

The armory had a large door, to allow a horse in to be shooed or donned. Kay leaped off, and pushed it open, to allow us in. As soon as we are in, Kay led his horse in and slammed the door shut behind us.

The high windows allowed gray light to filter in, shining on the Sabre armor hanging on the walls.

"Arm yourselves, Sabre. We're fighting our way out." Boss cast off our rain-soaked cloak. "They do not know we are aware yet. But they will."

There were twelve individual pieces to each Sabre armor, interlocking and overlapping like a blacksmith puzzle, but I could suit up in my sleep. Within thirty seconds, we were fully enclosed in our shells of steel. Only the injured Con required another thirty seconds, with the assistance of Lore to don his armor. Finally, I gazed up at my hollow helm, staring back at me with its dark eyes. I grabbed it and placed it securely over my head. I breathed in the familiar scent of steel and polish. I felt the weight of the Gauntlet of Justice on my left, the blade of the Hand of Mercy on the right.

"We've got company." Kay called from his perch by the window. "Lots of Seanchan soldiers. About half a dozen archers, and a dozen swordman."

"Sabres. We shall fight." Boss gestured from horseback. "Jehannah and Lugard on the bolt." He pointed at Kay and Lore. "Fal Moran and Maredon with me at charge." He motioned to me and Map. "Shol Arbela and Caemlyn to the gate." With a final sweep towards Stim and Con.

"There will be archers." Map said.

Boss nodded and pulled off a large tower shield from the wall. Sabres traditionally forgo the shield, but this one was a decorative piece, emblazoned with the black trinity of the Sabre. However, it could stop an arrow well enough.

I rode my horse to the side of the door, and Map took the other side. I tightened my hold on my sword, and kept my other hand on the reigns. We sat silently, waiting… waiting.

The door burst open, tumbling heavily in, and Seanchan stormed in. I butchered them down as they passed, my sword cleaving down at their necks, catching them wholly unprepared. Glass crashed, as both Kay and Lore simultaneously smashed through their respective windows. Bolts cracked from their sleek black crossbows, catching enemy archers before they could aim back.

"Now!" Boss charged, trampling over those still in the doorway, the tower shield in his hand slamming the bottled Seanchan back. We flowed after. Both Kay and Lore jumped down to their waiting mounts, to follow behind. An arrow glanced past my shoulderplate. More arrows scattered down among us, and many hammered against the protective tower shield like a furious storm. Sabre crossbolts replied, their aim crying more true, and the enemy's fire slowed to a drizzle.

Boss discarded the tower shield, drawing his blade, and we charged down the remainder of the Seanchan soldiers. Then my eyes caught sight of Captain Sandelay standing next to a surprised group of Seanchan officers. They were expecting us to be caught unawares and trapped, but they were in for a treat.

We charged them. They were a brave lot, but we were armored and mounted. They fell below our treads. Then, Captain Sandelay was backing away, "I'm sorry. They got here before you!"

There was no mercy. I decapitated him with a hard blow, and we thundered past. Stim and Con had overtaken the surprised gateguards, and removed the bar, pushing the gate for us to charge through. They swung up on their own horses to follow, as Kay and Lore covered them with their pin-point accurate crossbows.

We were through before the garrison could wake. There was a last brief exchange of arrows, but Kay won through, and an archer tumbled from the walls. Through the city we stampeded, oversetting trader carts. People fled from our charge. Behind us, I could catch the distinct noise of horsebeats. The Seanchan and the traitors had finally rallied horsemen against us.

I leaped my horse over a merchant stand, urging the horse to kick it over as we passed. Fruits and vegetables scattered the street, and the wagon leaned heavily through the middle. Through the early day crowd of Mardecin we sped out into the foothills.

In the fore, Boss raised his hand high and made a chopping noise. The signal to kill. We instantly scattered, Sabres riding towards position. I twisted my horse around a hill, cantering out as bait. Ten Seanchan horsemen rode out of the city after us. Two went down immediately to Kay and Lore's fire, tumbling off their horses in ruin.

The other eight formed up into a wedge, striking after me. Two more were taken from their horse by crossbolts before they reached me. The instant after, two silver shapes flashed through the air and Kay and Stim leaped from their hiding places to grappled two of the soldiers off their horse, rolling to the grass, stabbing with their Hands of Mercy.

The remaining four crashed against me. I would be hard pressed against four, but I would not be fighting them straight. I parried the first blows, sacrificed my horse as a shield to roll off, rolling dangerously under one of their raging horses, into the clear. Swords blazed around them, as Sabres encircled them. Surrounded and outnumbered, they dropped their swords in surrender.

"Save one. Kill the rest." Boss plunged his sword into a surprised and unarmed Seanchan. I grabbed the one before me as the rest followed Boss's suit. My Seanchan attempt to resist, but I ducked below his blow, and twisted him to the ground. I hit him on the side of the head with my weighted gauntlet, knocking him out. Quickly we bound him arms and legs with rope.

I swung onto one of the freed horses, pulling him up before me, my bladed gauntlet at his throat in case he woke up prematurely. We took flight from the city, as more Seanchan poured out of the city after us. But, by then we were too far to catch.


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

The Seanchan proved to be difficult to break. Difficult, but not impossible. He was a professional soldier—not a mercenary or a sellsword. Which meant he was loyal and dedicated to his cause and liege, as well as trained at least to a basic level of resisting interrogation and torture.

We each have had some interrogation training, but not as full a complement as a Hand of Light could have boasted. Many tools we were lacking, and constrained by time and circumstances.

The Seanchan soldier was tied to a thick tree by well-knot ropes. He sat in the darkness, thirsty and hungry. Every time his head drooped, I kicked him to prevent him from sleeping. He glared balefully at me with red-soaked eyes, but the fury in his eyes had already been quenched.

"How many total Seanchan soldiers are there in Mardecin?" I asked again emotionlessly.

The soldier grunted unintelligently. So be it.

I left him in the care of Map, and proceeded back to the main camp.

There, Lore had finished donning her Seanchan armor, except for her helmet. It would take too long to break the Seanchan down, time that we did not have. We needed a gamble—a shortcut. We needed this from Lore.

Lore gave a nod as if she was ready.

Boss struck out, a fist slamming into her face, knocking her reeling back. She stood up again, and Boss slammed down at her from the side of her head. She fell unconscious. Boss had measured his blows to deal pain and injury, but not enough to permanently damage her.

Stim and I grabbed her unconscious body and dragged her to the prisoner's tree. He stared up at our approach, his mouth working slightly. Then we heaved Lore against the tree and bound her tight. Her head lolled limply, but she should wake in an hour or two, although with a severe headache.

I proceeded back to camp to wait her out, leaving Map standing there in the shadows as guard.

"If you do not break him tonight, we must kill him." Boss said. "We have been here too long already. We must move before they track us down. The traps we left in the forest will not hold forever."

"Lore is good at what she do." I replied. "She will succeed."

Boss did not answer. He did not need my recommendation or my encouragement. He knew her abilities well enough. We sat there in silence, the fire burning softly.

Then I felt the time was right, and returned to the prisoners. Lore was stirring, her eyes blinking and resolving. Her breath came raggedly and dark bruises crossed her delicate face.

"Maybe your friend here will prove to be more cooperative." I said. I strolled forward until I leaned over in front of Lore. She was wake now, staring at me with her large, brown eyes.

"I will tell you nothing." She croaked defiantly in her perfect Seanchan slur.

I slapped her hard in the face. When she looked back on me once more, blood leaked slowly from the corner of her mouth. She was not in Oneness now, so she had no cushioning shield against pain. But, she withstood it, and spat at me. Her blood and spittle marked my cheek, but I wiped it off casually.

I stood up, staring between the two of them. I looked at the Seanchan prisoner once more. He was human, and humans had weaknesses.

"I need the numbers of Seanchan." I said. "Tell me, or she will suffer far more than you ever did."

The Seanchan narrowed his eyes slowly, staring dully at me. Soldiers could be resistant to pain upon oneself, but could they ignore the pains of others? Was he a hero? Or a coward?

I struck out, slamming into Lore's chest with the heel of my hand. She gasped, her eyes staring wide, unable to catch her breath. There was a crack of ribs fracturing. But, I had struck well to prevent any broken ribs from piercing her lungs. They should heal cleanly, but until they do, the pain would still be excruciating.

"Tell me what I need to know." I stared at the Seanchan, then backhanded Lore. She reered in pain. My Oneness began to tremble, but I quashed it, forming the pure shield against emotions once more.

"Don't…tell…him." Lore weezed, her eyes closed. Tears cut trails in the dirt and blood on her face. "Please."

My hands wrapped around her neck. I was capable of snapping it instantly, but I tightened my grip slowly. She quivered hard as the air to her windpipe was cut off and her head begin to whip back and forth. Terror and pain stroked in her eyes, and her mouth opened, but not sound came out.

The Oneness threatened to collapse on me, but I held my grip once more, tightening like iron around her slender neck. Her throat trembled in my hands, fire burning from the skin.

"STOP!" The Seanchan soldier suddenly uttered. I released my hands from Lore's neck. She fell back, her head clipping the tree. Ragged breath tore through her lungs. Her chest rose and fell, each time digging her injured ribs into her flesh. Pain coursed through her eyes, and her mouth remained open and slack.

"Two hundred soldiers." The Seanchan utterly, his eyes filled with loathing. "Stop hurting her."

I looked at the hero, and then I retreated back to the campfire.

"Two hundred soldiers in Mardecin." I replied. "The rest of the information will flow."

Stim nodded. He would be taking the second interrogation trial. We knew our limits. Even the Oneness would not keep us immune from the rigors of the interrogation process. Already, mine was threatening to shatter. I would not be able to safely continue. None of us enjoyed what we had to do, but our duty represented no other course. He stood up and disappeared towards the prisoners.

Boss gave me an imperceptible nod, studying my composure. I strengthened my mental walls again, until they stood firm and hard.

I caught motion of Kay moving back into camp, delving towards the fire.

"Large soldier movement to the west of us. Thousands." Kay said, as Boss looked at him inquiringly. "Backup requested."

"Go with him, Blue." Boss nodded towards me.

I stood up immediately, and with Kay, in the lead, we slinked into the forest. We were not armored. My Sabre armor was safely stashed inside my pack at the camp. Hopefully, our swords should suffice if we have any encounters.

The rain had made the fallen leaves and grass slick with moisture, and we crossed the forest silently. Trees twisted all around us in a maze, and the canopy blocked out the moonlight, but Kay knew exactly where he was heading in the dark labyrinth.

We had paced perhaps an hour through the night through the forest dew when Kay raised an arm to stop. Ahead, we could see the flickering lights of torches. We ascended the tree next to us, clinging into its shadows.

The flickering light approached us on a curved path. A patrol of perhaps two soldiers with torches were walking through the forest, no doubt on sentry duty. The moon was covered by a thin veil, but by their torchlight I gathered their armor and uniform, and recognized it.

I glanced up towards the hiding spot of Kay, to see the glowing orbs of his eyes. He gave a short nod, and we sat watching.

The two soldiers passed underneath us, and that was our cue. We leaped down, swords freeing from sheath. Before they could move, both sentries found their necks locked in iron grips, and a sword poised at their throat.

I leaned over slightly so I could whisper in a soldier's ears. "Answer truthfully. You have one chance. Who do you serve?"

He shivered in my grasp, but held still when I pressed my blade closer. If he answered incorrectly, he would die without even clearing his sword.

"I serve…I serve Ailron. King of Amadicia." He gasped.

At once, Kay and I let them free. They stumbled and spun, pulling their shortswords from their scabbards.

I simply raised my hand. "We are our allies. Lead us to your camp."

The two Amadician soldiers exchanged glances, and then measured us. At last, they seem to come to an agreement. After all, if we wanted them dead, we would have killed them easily.

"Come, it's this way." The first soldier said, leading us back from the directions from where they came. But, both kept their swords free and in hand, glancing back at us every few steps.

We crossed into a clearing where a large fire burned. Perhaps a couple tens of thousand soldiers camped here, in ragged and sprawling camps. Two sentries standing near the edge hailed us, and our guides spoke with them briefly. Then, they led us into camp.

It was not an organized camp at all, not close to the structure of a well-defined Children of Light camp. The sentries were sloppy and the camp badly set up. The strong smell of unburied latrine everywhere stung at the nose. Our guides led us in towards the center of the camp. No one glanced at our approach, for we wore inconspicuous cloaks and clothing.

Finally, at a grand tent that can only be the King of Amadicia, the guide whispered something to one of the guards. The guard slipped in to whisper and then the tent flap opened.

Walking out was the large, bearded figure of Ailron. Behind him walked the Lord Captain Commander Eamon Valda.

"Yes? These men said they found you outside. Are you allies or not?" Ailron demanded brusquely.

"My friend." Eamon Valda smiled at Ailron with a toothy grin. "I recognize them. They are under my control. Allow me to speak to them privately."

King Ailron frowned at this, but he acquiesced to Valda with a gesture.

The Lord Captain Commander drew us to the side, away from the guards and the watching King.

"You survived the fall of Amador." Valda studied us, his eyes measuring our stances. "Very good, I can use you. The blustering idiot"—he gestured at the King—"has been trying to seize some power now that the Fortress has fallen, and his army still survives. I need you to be his bodyguard, but when he is not watching you, I need you to go through his items to make sure he is not attempting anything severe against me. If he is—take care of it discretely."

"Sir, the Seanchan are the greater threat." I advised. "We could put our skills to better use against them."

"The Seanchan we will handle in time. But, we can't let our friendly sovereign get too ahead of himself. He's the bigger threat. Trust me, I know this." He gave us a studying eye. "You will do this."

"Yes sir." We nodded. He was the Lord Captain Commander, and we could not disobey his command. However, I did not think much of his plan and priorities.

"Just two of you?" he asked.

"Sir, there is two of us here, yes." I said. I did not mention the other Sabres camped an hour away. Perhaps they will be able to merit more success against the Seanchan, instead of being commanded to be glorified nursemaids.

"You know your assignments then." Eamon Valda turned back to Ailron. "These soldiers will serve as your bodyguard, my King. They are battle tested and will give their life for you at your word. They are valuable men to me, Ailron, but I know your importance."

Perhaps the King was somewhat appeased. "I'll have my men bring some livery for them."

I gritted my teeth, but Eamon Valda was the Lord Captain Commander. As some servants brought up some folded red Amadician Garbs, I clenched my fists but took them.

"They will serve you very well." Valda said as he turned to leave. "Very well."


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

The word of the Lord Captain Commander is the highest level of command programmed in to our minds. What the greatest Anointed of the Light commanded, we were forced by years of deep mental conditioning to obey. We have a certain flexibility and initiative to decide how to fulfill the High Command, but we could not disobey, except for a tiny emergency mechanism. That did not mean we believed the Lord Captain Commander is always correct, such as the instant I now found myself.

My utilitarian cloak and garments were now replaced by a vivid red Amadician courtier livery, stitched liberally with the Star and Thistle of Amadicia. On the outside of the crimson breeches, I had awkwardly belted my sword. I stood opposite of Kay within the King's Tent, wasting valuable time playing Valda's spy. So far, Ailron had not allowed us alone in his tent, so we were forced to stand outside his tent while he slept. The sheer livery did little to cut the harsh wind, but we hardly felt it in the Oneness.

In the morning, Ailron was delivered his breakfast of poached eggs and royal bacon. We stood at his side while his captains filed in to report on the status of his camped army. For the entire day, there were no especially notable news, but I memorized all his captain's reports anyway. Ailron ate his supper of a deer haunch with some spiced ale, while we were dismissed for our meal break. When we returned after our sustenance of salted pork and flatbread, we continued our vigil inside the command tent.

The first sign of an incident was the noise of horses outside. Words were exchanged beyond the range of my hearing. One of the Guardians of the Southern Gate within peeked out of the tent, and spoke for a moment, then returned.

The red-armored guard said to an inquiring Ailron, "They have found a Seanchan soldier at the perimeter. He said he was delivering a message. He wishes audience with you."

"Let him in." The King gestured. Apparently, he felt safe enough in the company of four Guardians and two of Valda's hand picked bodyguards.

An unarmed Seanchan soldier soon entered, glancing about the tent for a moment. He looked at the King, and reached for his belt pack.

The Guardians immediately tensed on their weapons, but the King waited patiently for the Seanchan to draw out a strip of paper.

"We wish for a peaceful solution to this situation." The messenger said, giving the paper to Ailron. "An official envoy and his honor guards will come tonight. It is our wish that you allow audience with them. Hopefully, there will be an agreeable decision between our respective armies."

The King studied the paper for a moment, and then crumpled it up. He looked back at the messenger, "I'll hear your envoy out. But if I don't like what they say, there will be heads to pay."

The messenger bowed and departed. Ailron looked thoughtful. Perhaps he believed his army had intimidated the Seanchan into negotiations. He muttered to himself to dinner, stuffed pheasant with wine.

At nightfall, a Guardian entered the tent to announce the arrival of the Seanchan envoy. Four horsemen had entered the camp, and were now being lead towards Ailron's tent. He departed and shortly there were footsteps outside.

Four Seanchan walked into the tent, graciously turning their sheathed scabbards towards the four Guardians of the Gate at the door. Their leader was a tall mustached Seanchan, chiseled with keen eyes that roamed across the inside of the tent. I immediately recognized what Ailron or his other guards may not have seen. The three Seanchan guards were poised, eyes sweeping the room in a focused manner. There was a shear danger in their eyes, bottled viciousness that could be unleashed at an instant. Their leader was as hard as any of his guards, with a fatal grace in every movement. This was no diplomat. He smiled for the King, but the smile was laced with deadly capability. All my senses were telling me these men were not what they seemed.

I was not as gifted at deception as Lore, but I was acquainted with its skills. I forced my posture to slacken, to appear as lackluster and enervated as Ailron's Guardians. I disguised the focus of the Oneness from my eye towards a more apathetic luster, and allowed my visage to relax like a bored servant. But, poised within me I was ready for action. The guise was after all a guise. I did not know if my deception worked. For a moment, Seanchan eyes halted over Kay and me, measuring us for a soft moment, before turning his attention to the King.

"You are the man who calls himself the King of this illegal territory? I am Dokon and these are my escorts. I am the voice of the Seanchan here." The diplomat said.

"Yes, I am Ailron. And I am the King of this lawful land." Ailron replied boldly. "Now, listen here. You are only here on my whim. You go back and tell your leaders to take their armies and return back to the hole from where they crawled. Or they will suffer the might of my strength."

The diplomat chewed on these words for a moment. "That is a bold claim. Are you sure you would not like negotiate terms? Here." He motioned to one of his escorts, who brought forth a bottle of fine wine. "Perhaps a token will help put your mind at ease."

Ailron slapped the bottle away, where it shattered against the ground, leaking its amber liquid to seep into the fabric of the tent. "I will not negotiate. I will only accept an unconditional surrender. This is final."

"A pity then." The Seanchan leader gave almost an imperceptible nod. The only warning was the twitch of his sleeves. But, that was the only warning Kay and I needed.

From hidden sleeves, daggers sprang into existence in the Seanchan's waiting hands. Dagger cleared the air, and two Guardians of the Gate immediately fell. I slapped away the steel blur aimed at my head, as Kay pushed Ailron to the ground.

The Seanchan struck out hard and fast, instantly disabling the two other Guardians before they could react, wrestling their swords from them. Dokon moved instantly towards the King, but I immediately intercepted him.

He stabbed at my chest with a fast strike, but I knocked the dagger away. My sword half cleared its sheath, but the surprisingly dexterous diplomat cracked down on my wrist, stunning the nerves and causing the sword to fall.

Then his fists were a blur, attempting to strike at my vulnerable points. I twisted to take glancing blows, deflecting his continued force. Dokon fought with an unarmed style I did not recognize, but I could immediately recognize its lethality. His eyes flashed in surprise as my knees broke through his guard, sending him back.

A sword flashed at my ribs, but I spun away, grabbing the arm and twisted. But, the assailant knew what he was doing, turning with me to prevent my snapping his arm. Then Dokon was back on me, forcing me back under a deluge of blows.

Meanwhile, Kay stood above the quivering form of Ailron, his swords deflecting lightning blows after blows from two more Seanchan. The two assassins were no doubt skilled, wielding the unfamiliar Guardian blades with speed, but they had not expected to match battle with the caliber of a Sabre.

With time, they would have eventually worn Kay down. They were better swordsmen than him, even with unfamiliar blades. Afterwards they could turn to cut me down, but time was their adversary, and they were quite aware of it.

The tent flaps suddenly opened as Guardians of Gate charged in towards the sound of battle. The assailants instantly abandoned their failed assassination ploy, breaking away, cutting free of the back of the tent, and running into the night.

I instantly began chase, but Ailron's panicked voice commanded, "No! Protect me!"

I halted, picking up my sword from the ground. The numbness in my wrist was already dissolving. I knew that the Seanchan would get away—elude their pursuers with impunity. They were skilled—very skilled. If Kay and I had not been present, Ailron would have died within seconds. I cataloged their unarmed style in my mind—just in case. I had a feeling I would meet these select Seanchan later.


	8. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Following the assassination attempt, Ailron has increased the number of guards to protect him, so that while he slept, his tent was fully ringed by red-armored Guardians of the Southern Gate. With the heightened security following Dokon's escape, I doubted that the Seanchan would make a second attempt that night.

Kay and I made our wide circuits around his private camp area, our eyes studying all approaches towards the King's tent. Fire bloomed in pits all throughout the grounds following Ailron's orders after the futile search for the Seanchan. They would not be able to get within a yard of the King before either Kay and I spot him.

A cloaked figure caught my eyes, moving lightly through small bands of camped soldiers. It was like a spotted jungle cat moving through oblivious wildebeests and lumbering boars.

I circled around behind him, approaching him with my hand on my sword.

But before I could touch him, he turned towards me, whispering, "At ease, Fal Moran."

From under the hood peaked out the blue eyes of Con. His voice was scratched and garbled, whether from his attempt at a disguise or the injury done by the Seanchan arrow, but it was indeed Con within.

"I thought that looked like you. What are you doing in that garb?" He asked, arching one brow.

A shadow of movement beside me and Kay was peering inside the hood as well. Con gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We now operate under the orders of the Lord Captain Commander." I replied. "He has ordered us to stand guard and spy on the King."

"Acknowledged." Con bowed his head slightly. "Bandar Eban ordered Maradon and me to follow your tracks when you did not return. Shall we greet the Lord Captain Commander?"

"No, his decision is unwise. He weighs Ailron over the Seanchan."

"Very well." Con's eyes glinted. "What occurred here tonight?"

"Four assasins tried the King. They would have succeeded without Kay and me. They were skilled. I believe the Seanchan have brought our counterparts into play."

"Noted. This is what we have gathered so far. The Seanchan are moving their main army up. They are readied at the town of Jeramel, one day's march south of here. Twenty thousand regular troops. About two thousand of war creatures. And fifty pairs of their channelers, at last count, although Lugard said only one of each pair can channel. How many soldiers are here?"

"Twenty thousand Children of Light and thirty thousand Amadicians—all of Ailron's regular army, including Guardians."

"Bandar and Maradon recommend strictly that you do not engage them at Jaramel. Despite your greater number, they have the tactical advantage."

"The King will attack them if given this information."

"Nonetheless you will report to the Lord Captain Commander. If they decide to pursue engagement, the Sabres will try our best to weaken the Seanchan beforehand." Then Con twisted away, flowing into the camp. Somewhere, at the outskirt of the camp, another cloaked shadow joined up with Con, and both disappeared into the night.

"Remain at guard. I will report to Valda." I nodded towards Kay. Even with the strengthened watch, Con had proved that it was possible to sneak past the sentries, and we needed a Sabre close by.

I walked through the burning campfires towards the Children of Light encampment squatting to the east of the Amadician camp. I left behind the sloppily erected tents of the Ailron's soldiers towards the neat rows of white tents of the disciplined Children.

Sentries glanced up at me, but I wore the personal livery of Ailron, so they left me unchallenged until my destination. Below the dancing banner of the Sunburst, sat the wide pavilion of the Lord Captain Commander. The security around his habitat was no less than Ailron's, with ten Children of the Light at attention near its entrance and one mounted patrol of five cavalry patrolling

It was this patrol that stopped me at the bottom of the hill, forming a half-circle before me.

"Halt there. State your business." The leader peered down at me with vivid eyes and a bit of contempt. Their warhorses pressed down at me, nostrils flaring. Lance points glinted in the firelight.

But I stood my ground, staring back at the leader. "Fal Moran reporting to the Lord Captain Commander."

"What kind of gibberish is that?" The leader retorted.

"You will tell him." I stood there, unmoving and arms crossed.

The Child of Light saw the resolution on my face, and jerked a finger back. One of the soldiers rode back towards the tent. The leader of the cavalry glared at me with his fiery eyes, but I matched it evenly until he finally looked away. The horseman returned and gave a nod.

"Go ahead then. Turn in your sword at the door." The Children rode to a side to let me pass.

I walked quietly up to the slope where I was met by the guards there. I pulled my sheathed sword from my belt, and turned it over to one of the Children. He drew it partway, and his eyes widened slightly at its craftsmanship. It was a sword he did not expect to find on a mere servant, but he had his orders to let me pass.

I ducked within the confines of Eamon Valda's pavilion. It was roomier than Ailron's but not as lavishly furnished. The Lord Captain Commander sat at the head of a low table, alongside four Lord Captains of the Council of Anointed.

The officers glanced up dismissingly but Eamon smiled at my entrance.

"Fal Moran reporting." I announced simply to Valda.

One of the Lord Captains frowned at me and asked, "Who is this, Lord Valda?"

"He is one of the last remnants of old Pedron's reign. One of his more useful tools." Valda studied me with predator eyes. "I hear you foiled a plot on the good King's life tonight."

I gave a short nod.

"You have something to report then, Blue?"

"Seanchan have massed twenty thousand at Jeramel. Sabres advise not to engage."

The Lord Captain Commander steepled his fingers, and leaned forward. "You have some channel of communication. Ailron to my knowledge is not aware." His eyes peered at me, but he did not press the issue. "But I will tell him in the morning. And do you know what he will do?"

"He will order a march to Jaramel."

"Exactly. The Children of Light will follow, of course. But, if it works out, these Seanchan and Ailron will take each other down, and we will be left to pick up the pieces."

"Sir, they have fifty pairs of possible channelers."

"Channelers fall to arrow as easy as any man. Easier. Now, Fal Moran, you will continue to serve as Ailron's bodyguard. But if my life comes in danger or I call a retreat, you and the other must bear yourselves immediately to my side."

I bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

"I have heard your report and your advice. You are dismissed, Sabre."

I left the pavilion, resigned to a full engagement.


	9. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

My assessment of King Ailron was correct. When he was appraised with the Seanchan army's location, he immediately roused his men to march. The assassination attempt was the last insult he was willing to take from the Seanchan. None of his advisers persuaded him otherwise, and Eamon Valda encouraged him, his eyes glinting.

So, it was such that the Amadician army and the Children of the Light began to ride for its fateful confrontation with the Seanchan at Jaramel.

Eager to sally forth and ride down the usurpers of his land, the King and his vans took the lead of the forces. The Children provided the skirmishers and mounted pickets, but reserved its main body behind the King's troops.

Kay and I rode at Ailron's side. As the reward for being the only guards who did not fail him in the foiled assassination attempt, he had provided us with the crimson armor of the Guardians of the Southern Gates as well as the roan mounts that we now rode. It was well-crafted armor, stronger and more elaborate than that worn by a Child of Light Lancer.

I had forgone the Guardian's steel lance in favor of my sword. I had not used nor practiced the lance since my Hundredman days, and the weapon now felt alien in my hand.

Ailron was in a good mood. He wore an elaborate red plated armor with a flowing cloak and mantle. His numbers were far greater than the gathered Seanchan and he aimed to wipe them out, establishing authority in the face of the Children of the Light.

Somewhere at our destination, Sabres were working to cripple the Seanchan defense effort in every way possible. Scouts will be picked off, communication lines disrupted, and supplies poisoned. Boss will do his best to allow Ailron's lumbering army to catch the Seanchan unprepared and blind. But there were only so much five Sabres could do.

Ailron made no pretense of creeping his men forward, no guile or strategy, but instead marching them boldly along the main road into Jaramel.

A Child of Light Lancer rode to the fore of the King, "Front pickets are within a league of the city. We have engaged several patrols of Seanchan at the edge of the surrounding plains, but their main body is still within Jeramel."

"Very good." The King tugged on his beard, and drew a fancy broadsword from his scabbard. He raised his voice, "Hear that, men? We will fall all on them while they sit on stolen land with vengeance! We will bathe in blood! For Amadicia! For the Southern Gates!"

The city was within sight now, a fairly large wooden town now bristling with running figures. Several rows of their soldiers had begun to grow in formation, but their army had not yet fully rallied. Apparently, the Sabres had done a fair job of blinding the Seanchan.

Before us, Seanchan horsemen were retreating back to the city in the face of sheer numbers. A league of flat plains and grass separated the city and the Amadician army.

King Ailron ordered the charge, and his soldiers begin to pour down the plains towards the town. The entire center mass of his strength was his infantry, running down towards their Seanchan foes. At the side, his archers struggled to keep up, and the entire ranks were stiffened here and there by mounted Guardians.

Arrows hailed from the Seanchan defenders, stabbing down in a violent rain on the charging soldiers. Many fell and were trampled by fellow men or horses. The running Amadician archers were slow to return fire, with sporadic clusters of arrows. It was not a well disciplined charge, but our sheer numbers carried us forward with solid momentum.

Then we were among those fighting in the streets. Ailron charged headlong into Seanchan soldiers, his sword slashing down at running bodies. I kept to his side like a well trained hound, protecting his exposed side and flank.

I had received only one year of Sabre training for shock trooping. Enough to be competent, but it was not a core of our curriculum, as Sabres were considered too valuable to be used as shock soldiers. I would have to make the best of it, as I steered my horse into the heaviest resistance, smashing through packed bodies to allow Ailron to pass unharmed.

Thick explosions of fountaining dirt and bodies carved their way through the Amadician army. The Seanchan channelers were now in play. I scanned the field as best as I could, but for the moment I could not catch sight of any of the lethal pairs. I regretted the absence of Lore in that capacity. Channelers were our greatest danger, and here open and exposed upon the battlefield, I could be destroyed as easily as any man.

But luck was with us that day, and no lightning sliced in among Ailron's shock cavalry. But we still had many Seanchan fighters to account for. We were now deep within the inner skirts of the city, battling hardened Seanchan defenders. Ailron was surrounded by Guardians of the Southern Gate along with two Sabres, so he cut in deeper much farther than his army, which had begun to bog down in the street-to-street fighting. But the King was too wrapped up in his own glory to notice how far he was over-extending.

Then the first disaster struck.

A group of enormous creatures ten times the size of horses charged into the thick of Ailron's army. With thick gray skin deflecting off swords and arrows, the mammoth monsters crushed men and horses alike under their tree-trunk legs. Men begin to run in terror from the giants, whose flailing, serpentine noses sent horseman flying off their mounts. Lesser monsters carved through steel and flesh in the aftermath of the giants, with fast legs and sharp claws and teeth.

Even Ailron's private force was halted in their tracks. A Giant Horse charged down at us, as Guardians struggled to keep their horses from panicking. Ailron froze, staring up in horror at the gray titan. Stunned, the King sat unmoving on his horse. I kicked my protesting horse into movement, charging the Giant. Arrows carved clouds of dirt around me, and I was there, steering my steed around gargantuan legs. With all my strength, I jammed my sword into its knees. The sword was instantly pulled from my grasp, almost unseating me, but the strike had done its job. The Giant collapsed on its one legs, almost falling on top of me.

Kay had pulled the trembling King back, as Guardians desperately tried to fight armored three-eyed creatures that seemed to be invulnerable to any mortal blows. Soldiers after soldiers fell like wheat to a scythe. I charged my horse back towards the fast retreating group.

The Amadician army was now completely in disarray. Faced with lightning, boiling fire, and vicious monsters, all signs of discipline had disappeared. Left alone without infantry support, Guardians were pulled off their horses and killed. Archers in the flanks had thrown down their bows and begun to run, leaving virtually no cover.

The only soldiers remaining in good discipline were the Children of the Light. That is, until the second disaster struck.

The white ranks of Children suddenly staggered as a large force of men pounded into them from the west. A great host of men in baggy trousers and veils were attacking the Children of Light alongside Seanchan. From their clothes and complexion, I instantly recognized them as Taraboners. What they were doing here, I could not comprehend, nor why they were fighting for the Seanchan. But, I could immediately see that they added at least ten thousand men to the Seanchan side.

"Retreat! Protect me!" The familiar voice of Eamon Valda boomed over the battlefield.

Obeying my earlier order, I kicked my horse around towards the source of the alarm, abandoning Ailron without a second glance, as his forces were overwhelmed by swarms of Seanchan defenders.

The Children of Light were indeed retreating, fleeing northward towards the greater forest. But the Lord Captain Commander was now bogged down in a thick engagement with Taraboners and Seanchan. I seized a sword from an attacking Taraboner horseman, sending him toppling from his mount. We charged hacking and cutting, until Valda was finally freed from the knot, and begin a full gallop towards the forest.

"Cover my back!" He shouted.

Seanchan mounted on lizards suddenly clawed in from east and west, ready to cut off the retreat. Mounted Taraboners were catching up from behind with more of the Seanchan monsters.

But then from the hills rode down glittering figures, cloaked in steel and white. They rode in a tight formation of armor and sword, smashing into the rear of the lizard riders like an avenging storm. There were only five of them, but the Sabres carved easily through all opposition to the Lord Captain Commander.

But Eamon Valda had no time for gratitude. He galloped through the holes that the Sabres had broken for him, leaving us behind to buy him time.

Monsters were all around us, swords and claws slashing through the air. I leaned low on my mount, forcing it to give as much as it has left. One of the three-eyed armored creatures leaped at me, but a sword intercepted its flight, cutting deep into its eyes so that it fell short.

I recognized the armored figure of Lore who had saved me, and we galloped into the edge of the forest. But close behind us were two Seanchan riding upon tireless lizards, while our horses were wearing down from exhaustion. Lore aimed back with her crossbow, and took down a lizard through the throat, where it toppled to spill out its rider.

She attempted to fire again, but in the rapid jostling movement, her bolt grazed the second rider, sending him toppling back. But she was distracted by the action, and her haggard horse stumbled upon a dirt patch.

Then the riderless lizard mount leaped onto the back of Lore's horse with a frenzy, its claws slashing everywhere. The horse slammed into the ground, blood leaking in a stream of fluids. Lore was flung hard into the ground, her master crafted armor cut into ribbons of steel.

I twisted my horse around, trampling down towards Lore's fallen body. I could not leave her behind. That was unthinkable. It was an intimate bond of Sabres, tempered in the forge of the Fortress of shared blood and sweat that compelled me back to her.

I leaped from my horse, slamming into the lizard, my daggered gauntlet plunging into its back. I jumped away from its snapping teeth, took a heavy blow from its claws that left scored marks on my breastplate. It snapped again, claws rending blood and flesh from my arm, but I plunged on, my sword taking it through the neck. The next moment, I was on Lore, pulling her up from where she had fell.

In my arms I held her, as I ran, stumbling into the bushes. Horsemen rode by all around us, as I laid there, breathing heavily, drowning in the smell of blood and iron. Lore was still alive but unconscious. In the hiding place of the bushes, I slowly laid her down, crawling up so I could examine her.

The creature had mauled her with its thick claws through even the Sabre's formidable armor. I felt blood flowing freely from my own wounds, but I begin to tear strips from my tattered sleeves. I bound the wounds on her arms and legs. Her breastplate had saved her from completely destructive internal damage.

Night had appeared to settle down as the sound of horsemen and footsteps seem to have disappeared. I peeked out from the bushes, gazing around, but saw no soldiers or movement.

I stumbled out, Lore held limply in my arms. I could hear the sound of running water close by and I followed its call. My legs shrieked in pain each time I stood down, but I wrapped away the sensation in the Oneness. I came upon a short stream, setting Lore by the flowing water. Carefully, I begin to wash away at her wounds, clearing away blood and dirt that had entered. Her eyelids flickered, but she did not wake.

Her heartbeat was weak, but it was stable. She was a strong woman, but she had lost a lot of blood. I toppled down beside her, cupping water from the stream to wipe at my own lacerations, scrubbing at the dirt and grime staining deep my wounds.

Hearing sounds filtering from the forest, I once more picked up Lore, and headed deeper into the woods. After an hour of weary walking, I found a suitably well-hidden shelter. It was a rocky outcropping with a small indentation that could probably hide two people from the wind and searchers. I eased inside the crevice and sat down, pressing my back against the rocky wall.

I begin to shiver from the coldness of the night and my injuries. The tip of Lore's nose and her lips were turning slightly blue. I dared not start a fire, at the risk of drawing Seanchan down to us. I held her tight so our combined body warmth could keep us from the frost of death. It was in this state that I slowly fell asleep, my exhaustion finally overwhelming the cold.


	10. Chapter Nine

**CHAPTER NINE**

The tiny glimpse of daylight in my vision woke me up, along with Lore's stirring in my grasp. She twisted slightly so she could face me. The blood chiseled on her face was now dry as she studied me with her dark brown eyes. There was a deep sense of relief within me, to see her survive the injury and the night.

Soft breath misted in front of my face, "Fish. Where are we?"

"Far behind enemy lines. Friendly assets unknown." I replied, feeling my lips crack as I spoke.

With one of her hands, she brushed aside my hair, touching at the deep gashes on my cheek. "You're hurt badly." A small quirk cracked her smile. "Do you mind relaxing your arms a bit?"

My arms were locked around Lore and cramped in the night to their position, but I willed my arms to release each other. Pain scored through my arms and my back. Circulation returned to my extremities with an agonizing surge.

She seized my arm, her cool hands smoothing over the dried blood crusted on my skin. "They're burning. You're fighting off infection."

"And I'll win. We need to find better shelter and a plan. Wait. Quiet." I heard footsteps on the periphery of my hearing, soft practiced steps approaching our position.

Lore froze, her eyes narrowed as she too heard the sound. She shifted, poising on the balls of her feet. We were both badly injured and now unarmed, but we would not go down easily.

A shadow flitted over the entrance of the cave, and a Seanchan soldier was there, a longbow in hand, aimed directly at Lore. He was experienced, at a range enough where I couldn't reach him before he shot. We were at his mercy. I tensed my muscles. Sabres do not allow ourselves to be prisoners.

Then the Seanchan's eyes suddenly widened as he exclaimed, "Waru?"

His crossbow dipped for a second. It was all I needed. I lunged from my crouching position in an explosion of speed. The shriek of my cramped muscles and ravaged skin were muffled in the embrace of the Oneness. I was on him, tackling him to the ground. The arrow fired, shooting harmlessly up into the air.

He grappled for the scimitar at his belt, and I drove my hand cracking hard into the side of his neck with a crack. He fell dead to the grass.

Detecting no motion around us, I quickly set about dissembling his armor and removing his supply pack and weapons.

"He knew you." I said, as I opened his pouch, sniffing at the rations within. They were some sort of bread with a hint of exotic spices.

"He was a trailblazer for my Seanchan company. He has--had some intimate aspirations." Lore said mutely, "We should get moving. He'll be tracking for a hunting party, who will probably arrive soon. We won't be as lucky next time."

I glanced up at her, searching her face. "You're right." I tossed the fallen longbow up to her, which she caught with her off hand.

With the Seanchan completely stripped of everything useful, I towed him into the cave and stowed him inside out of sight. I yanked off my shattered vambraces, feeling the splintered steel tearing fresh wounds into my skin, and tossed them in afterwards. Lore removed her devastated breastplate and armlets as well, hiding them inside.

Slinging the backpack and the rest of the Seanchan's equipment over my shoulder, I directed us into the woods away from the night's hiding place. I did not bother to obscure the signs of a struggle, but the hidden body should delay any pursuers long enough.

"How was he?" I asked suddenly.

Lore cocked her head slightly, "Classified, and you don't have the clearance, Blue. What's our plan?"

"We're going to find our way to the closest main road, set up base camp. Attempt to make contact with any other Sabres or other friendlies left behind. We will do our duty, of course. The Seanchan must be stopped." I suddenly raised a hand, ducking down behind a thick brush, lowering myself to the ground quietly.

There was a soft crunching of steps on leaves and branches. Through the breaks in the foliage, I tracked the motions with my eyes. About ten horse-mounted Seanchan moved across the forest two hundred paces before us. They peered intently around the surroundings, eyes moving across our hiding place without stopping. They continued their trek through the forest, heading in the direction from where we had come.

I stayed lying there, listening to the faint horses' steps fading away, giving it a good fifteen minutes before I stood back up.

"So?" Lore asked.

"Come, you recognize this place as well as I." I gazed at the stands of trees all around us, their canopies intertwining high above us in a staccato of filtered light and green leaves. Memories slowly leaked back. We had been trained in this forest once. One of the largest and extensive exercises in the Lighthammer project.

As we crossed the forest floor, I could almost retrace the footsteps that I had once taken here. _It was the Gauntlet, as the Command had called it. We had a day and a night to cross the forest towards a target. And for our obstacle, they had brought in the illustrious Fifth Brigade, the greatest mounted bowmen that the Order could boast. A half legion of sharp-eyed shooters hidden within the trees and brushes as well as in fast mounted patrols made the Gauntlet what it was. Yes, they were explicitly ordered to shoot to disable. But, fatal accidents could still happen, and being disabled by a crossbow was no enjoyable process.  
_  
_I was the second Sabre to cross the Gauntlet, after Con. Lore was the last of seven, but not by much, right at the heel of Stim. But in that twenty-four hours, we had indeed become intimately familiar with the workings of the forest.  
_  
I knew intuitively where to go. We crossed a large clearing populated by tall grasses. Here, once before, I had been ambushed by three Brigadiers crouched upon separate trees. _Brief motion had betrayed the first bowman, allowing me time to duck from an arrow that grazed my calf. I could still remember the stream of arrows slicing through the high grass as I tumbled from cover to cover.  
_  
Now, Lore and I passed by a flowing river, perhaps a tributary of the one where I had washed myself last night. At this spot, I could remember being caught in the open by a patrol of three Brigadiers. _Tearing down on me on their black stallions splashing across the river, one of their arrows managed to tear through my left shoulder, a superficial injury. I eluded them in the thickest copses I could find, where I had removed the arrow and dressed the wound before hiking the last three leagues to the target. _

I led the way unerringly towards a hilly outcropping that overlooked the major road section from the town of Jermamel into northern Amadicia. In the training exercise, it served as a boundary, after all, we wouldn't have wanted the layman to see what the Fortress was cooking up.

Now lumbering down the road were a long line of green-and-red armored soldiers, spearpoints bristling and banners wafting in the wind. Several of the lizard riders rode at the side of the infantry, their riders occasionally yanking hard at the reigns to keep the mounts in line. Several mounted women were interspersed among the long line, usually separated but guarded.

"Channelers." Lore whispered, pointing out at each pair in turn.

As the long train of soldiers passed on, behind them came the wagons and camp followers. In drab clothes, they were the cooks, the liveries, and the smiths, along with their families. But among the wagons were the heavily laden supplies that a hungry war machine required for sustenance. But, so close to the main party of soldiers, it would be chancy to try for those.

But I knew that those wagons did not possess enough supplies to keep the war machine lubricated for longer than a few days. There would be more supply caravans heading up to the main front, not as well guarded, and a prime supply for two well-trained Sabres behind enemy lines.

"You have a plan, I see." Lore said.

"I do." I watched the wagons pass by in their long trains intently. Options clicked in my head, and probabilities and risk weighed themselves. I did not have Map's keen ability, but I could see what the obvious choices were. "This will be our first target. Let us set up base camp."

We melted into the forest, as the unending soldiers of the Seanchan's wrath march relentlessly up the road towards the north.


	11. Chapter Ten

**CHAPTER TEN**

I laid patiently in the high grass beside the graveled road, listening to the faint buzzing of bitemes humming over a nearby pile of donkey spoor, and the rhythmic rumbling of merchant wagons grinding over the hot gravels. The light netting of thatched grass over my cloak kept me hidden within close distance of the main tradefare. Only those who were trained or exceptionally keen sighted may have been able to pick out my outline.

The bird cry of a crested warbler filtered softly into my hiding place, giving me the signal I required. With the sound of the last wagon clipping away into the distance, I sprang from my hiding spot and seized the large log that shared my hide-out. With a well-practiced motion, I rolled the log up the ditch onto the road to block the entire girth. I scattered foliage across the road, and stomped on a few sections to make it the appearance of a natural fall. Then, Lore's signal of a Yellow Nightingale prompted me to seek my hiding place again.

It was not too long before the ground began to vibrate slightly under the approaching weight of a train of wagons. About ten wagons laden with supplies and armor were being pulled forward by a dozen work horses. Beside the driver and one passenger rode about four Seanchan, their eyes searching the woods around them.

Like routine, the driver pulled the horses to a stop upon seeing the large obstacle in the middle of the road. Like good little soldiers, the Seanchan immediately pulled out their weapons. Three scimitars cleared their scabbards, and an arrow was notched in a curved horsebow.

I felt the weight of the hilt of my own sword, but kept it sheathed in case the sheen of steel might alert them to my presence. From the ambushes we had run already, I could already guess what they were probably thinking.

These Seanchan were obviously prepared for an ambush—they were trained well enough to recognize such situations. However, they would probably then recall the resistance of the shattered Amadician Army has been almost non-existent since the battle of Jeramel. And so far none of our prey have escaped our little trap to report.

So our prey was going through the motions, but not as aware and prepared as they should be. And who could blame them? They were secure in their safety net of uninterrupted victories.

There were some muttered words exchanged, and finally two Seanchan moved forward, sheathing their weapons to push the fallen tree aside.

The archer continued to scan the grass, his eyes crawling up to my hiding spot. He took a step forward, and opened his mouth to speak, when an arrow pierced through the back of his neck, silencing him forever. There was a shout of surprise from the driver, as the other Seanchan turned to see the cause of the commotion. I leaped from the high grasses, sword clearing my scabbard to plunge into the backs of the two unarmed Seanchan in quick succession.

The driver and his passenger immediately leaped off their carriage, running heavily away from the sudden carnage down the road. An arrow whistled from a tree, to topple one of the fleeing civilians sprawling to the dirt.

The last Seanchan faced me with grim determination in the face of his fallen comrades, charging my position. I side-stepped easily, smashed his face with my waiting fist, and finished him with a plunge-and-twist through his kidneys.

I looked up to see the only survivor disappearing down the road. Lore was sauntering up towards the wagon, her crossbow held casually in hand, but ever ready. However, there was a slight hardness in her face.

"This should be our last ambush of the week here." I said as I began dragging the bodies to the roadside ditch. "You did well. The survivor should be able to report the attack, and get some military units invested uselessly here, weakening their main army. We can move on to riper targets."

"Yes, we've been at this much too long." She replied, leaping up towards the drivers' seat. She yanked at the reigns, directing the horses off the road into the forest, turning her head slightly, "Clean up the mess, will you?"

I gave her a mock salute, and began the process of dragging the bodies to an orderly pit in the ditch. I stopped at the body of the civilian. It was a young woman, sprawled facedown in the mud, the arrow embedded deep in her back. Plain face, slightly malnourished, common Amadician stock. Slight wrinkles around the eyes from years of squinting. No calluses on fingers, but white sediments in trimmed nails. Her outfit was clean linen and out of place for a wagon ferrier. Her hands still clutching her travel pack. Some sort of scholar or teacher using the caravan as a safe passage. Wrong place, wrong time. I could see why Lore was concerned. She found these tasks distasteful. But, it was the right tactical call. We only needed one survivor, and the driver was in better shape to make it back into the nearest city.

As I picked her corpse up, several objects fell out of the travel bag. Two wooden horses. Children's toys. Souvenirs for her children that will have to wait much longer. I left her cooling body next to the soldiers body and covered them with a straw mat.

I pulled out the prepared white sapling stakes and jammed them into the side of the road. I placed the souvenirs of the week on each stake. Ten bloody Seanchan insectoid helmets sat vigil on their new perches. As psychological tools, displays like these would be one of our more useful force multipliers. For good measure, I set a small bear trap near the closest spike. My job complete, I hiked towards the meeting ground.

Lore has already unhitched the wagons, and driven the horses into the woods, and started a small fire nearby.

"Poor Seanchan aren't going to get their dried steak dinners." Lore said as she dumped crates over the sides of the wagons, spilling their contents to the grass.

"Anything else?" I asked, as I nudged several barrels of preserved food.

A chest landed at my feet, making a clinking sound as it hit the ground.

"Military payroll." Lore gestured with a half-grin. But, she still seemed a bit uneasy from the ambush. "Seems like we're rolling in the riches now."

"The beancounters will be happy to know it will be put to good use." I pulled a torch from one of the crates, and lit it in the fire. I tossed the burning torch into the lead wagon. In the light of the glowing fire, I loaded the payroll into several pouches, and we hiked away from the fiery remains of seanchan cuisine. It certainly did smell good—the food did not go unappreciated.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

I tipped my straw-brimmed hat over my eyes, to shield it from the direct noon sun. My loose shirt and trousers rippled slightly in the soft breeze kicking up a few clouds of dust here and there. Lore walked beside me, a handkerchief tying her head back and a woven basket on her arm.

We turned down the sidestreet of that insignificant speck of an Amadician town, as I entered into the local blacksmith's shop. The smell of iron and steam gently circled around me, attempting to escape, as I closed the door silently behind me.

"My farm implement, it is done, yes, Master Smith?" I eased up to the counter, pulling up a soft purse, counting out a couple of silver coins.

"I don't think I've ever done this specification before." The smith replied, depositing a thick roll of metallic chain onto the counter. "But I've done my best. Although pardon my curiosity, but what do you intend to harvest with that?"

"Oh, I've had some experiences with some bad wheat. This should go a while to even out the harvest a bit." I pushed five pieces of silver across the counter, and picked up the coil.

Raising the weapon, I let it unfurl. The steel links glimmered softly in the light of the smith's lamp. I examined it carefully. Each of the nine links was two-inches, plus the handle and a wicked blade on the end. For a casual observer, it appeared to resemble a scorpion's tale, with a segmented body and a sharp stinger on the end. It was called a Reaper, one of several deadly weapons in the repertoire of the Arrow class.

I slowly recoiled it, and tucked it inside a prepared pouch on my belt. It was easy to conceal, and deadly in the hands of those who knew how to wield them.

I dropped three more argent coins on his counter, "For good craftsmanship, and confidentiality of course." I smiled at him, but my eyes were hard. He nodded mutely, and we departed his store in good humor.

"We're being followed." Lore murmured softly after a few steps.

I gave no response, but let my hand slip close to the pouch of the Reaper, quickening my steps slightly.

My eyes shifted across the road ahead of me, towards the stables where our horses waited. About three men were casually loitering in front. They were hard men, and I trusted my instincts, guiding us past into a twisting sidestreet.

"We may have attracted the attention of certain unmentionables. They might have discovered our camp already." I turned into an alleyway and halted.

Four men were standing there waiting for us, swords gleaming in hand. We turned to retreat when we discovered that exit was blocked by five more armed man. I recognized the leader immediately. It was one of those sent to assassinate Ailron, one of the followers of Dokon.

He studied us two for a moment, "Hard to imagine that two people can do some trouble. I recognize you. You're not bad for an oathbreaker. But, I'm afraid you two will have to come with me."

"We have pressing business." My hand descended into my pouch, fingers wrapping around the leather-bound hilt. Beside me, I sensed Lore tightening her grip on her concealed crossbow.

"Take them. Alive if possible." The leader gave a tiny wave of his sword.

Before he could finish his command, the Reaper had departed its pouch in a gleam of segmented light. Lore ducked to the ground wisely as the steel amalgamation flashed in its arc around me. I caught two unprepared, the blade whipping across them in a fatal crescent. For a moment, the others hesitated, and I pivoted the chain across my shoulder using its inertia to spin back. The assailants attempted to block, but the powerful force delivered by the chain sent their swords from their grips.

Meanwhile, Lore from her prone position brought her crossbow to bear, spitting out a killing blow at close range. The force meant to crack through armor send her target spinning backwards.

The leader flowed in, trying to breech the distance to jump my range. I snapped at him with the Reaper, but he ducked adroitly, as the chain's blade gouged a furrow in the alleyway with a crack of disintegrating mortar and brick.

His blade snaked forward with deadly intent. Obviously, he had given up on taking us alive. I twisted the chain around, intersecting his blade with segment, wrapping around it hard. This was the testing moment of Smith Haddock's handiwork, as sword and chain were wrapped tight around each other with a grind of steel. I forced the chain hard, twisted the Seanchan's sword with a groan of metal breaking. A kick to his stomach sent the man stumbling back, a worthless piece of twisted steel in his hand. Lore took down the last soldier blocking the far entrance.

I gave a motion of my head, and we were running through the gap, as the Seanchan forces attempted to reorganize. As I sprinted, I spun the Reaper back into its coil, but kept it close in hand.

Fortunately, the side roads opened up into the countryside and we were jogging into the wilds. Then a tiny shadow appeared over us. I glanced up to see one of the reptilian creatures—Rakens as Lore had named them—circling over us.

Its flight followed us from up high, tracing us for pursuit. We had to get under cover, but with so much land to cross, we were certainly in trouble.

"Can you hit that?" I asked, between breaths.

"It's too high up." Lore replied immediately, "It's staying out of range."

I tightened my lips as I heard the sound of horsebeats behind us, gaining quickly. The swishing sound of chains spinning through the air was my only warning to dive forward to a roll.

A long chain terminated by weights at the ends spun above me, slamming harmlessly into the grass with a clink. Lore was not so lucky. One of the thrown chains slammed into her back, the weights spinning around her, binding her arms tight around her body, and forcing her to the ground.

I dove towards where I had fallen, tugging at the chain-trap with one hand, the other loosening the Reaper once more.

Horsemen were now all around us, their steeds trampling in a circle. One spun a barbed net towards me, and I met it with the face of the Reaper. The blade snapped it away, but the net clung to my chain, slowing it down.

The four horsemen had me penned down, as Lore struggled to free herself of her binding. Still wary of my Reaper, they kept their distance, but another horseman raised a net, spinning it above his head in to preparation for another cast. Then, he toppled from his horse, a shaft embedded in his back.

For a moment the other three retreated their horses back a step or two. I pulled Lore to her feet as she finally slipped through the chain binding. Off in the distance, a column of smoke was approaching us. But, I had other matters to deal with, lunging at the freed horse.

The Seanchan gained their focus once more, charging in while I was trying to marshal the struggling horse in my hand. Lore finally managed to bring her crossbow to bear to strike a cavalier in the shoulder.

They hit us just as the smoke column arrived. Dark, greasy smoke was all around us, stinging the eyes and choking the breath. I sensed rather than saw the first Seanchan's blow, ducking beneath it and feeling the wind of its passing above me. There were clangs of sword exchanged all around me.

Then the familiar face of Map appeared in the thick smoke. Held high in one hand was a large torch covered with a black-drenched material, bellowing out its smoke. In the other hand was the crossbow that had taken the first soldier. Kay appeared beside her, with a similar torch and a blooded sword.

"I thought that was you." Map gave a nod. Both their faces were stained black from the smoke, and handkerchiefs were tied over their mouth and nose. "We must move soon. The smoke will hide us from their flying scout until we hit cover."

Indeed, the smoke bellowed forth from their torches in thick plumes that spread high into the air with choking fumes. Map pulled another greasy torch from a little harness on her back. She lit and tossed it to the ground, where it bellowed out its heavy smoke, to serve as further distraction. Lore held her own handkerchief against her face, as I had to make to do with my straw hat. Lore and I quickly ascended our stolen horse, as Map led the way. Kay raced his horse in a different direction, leading a second smoky trail away.

My eyes wavered in a liquid sea of tears as we pushed onwards through the smoke. Every few minutes, Map lit another torch and tossed it to the side. Just as her satchel went empty, we crashed through thick bushes into the safe cover of a forest.

I coughed into my hat as I finally gazed back at the plains with red, bleary eyes. Across the grassy plain, smoke columns ascended in a blanket of haze. The tiny figure of the raken weaved through the smokes, shuddering every slightly, until it finally retreated away into clear skies.

As I wiped my eyes with a grime-covered sleeve, I knew immediately that there was something that would need to be done about that. I had not before recognized the vast advantage conferred by the rakens, but I knew it was not an advantage that we can not allow.


End file.
